


Bás a Fháil

by AmarahOsiris



Series: Supernatural One Shots <3 [8]
Category: SPN, Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Angst with a sad ending, Death, F/M, Heavy Angst, Major character death - Freeform, Minor Character Death, Suicide, Suicide Attempt, Terminal Illnesses, Triggers, dying, months to live, title is in Irish Gaelic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-05
Updated: 2017-08-05
Packaged: 2018-12-11 08:41:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,005
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11710833
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AmarahOsiris/pseuds/AmarahOsiris
Summary: You had a terminal illness. But you would rather die on your own terms than go through painful medical treatments that may not work. Sam sees this as suicide and tries to stop you when you put your plan in motion.





	1. Part One

**Author's Note:**

> Title means “to die” in Irish Gaelic.

_6 months._

“We can try alternative treatment, medications, therapies, but I’m afraid they’ll only stave off the inevitable.” your doctor said matter-of-factly. 

“What do you mean, doc?” you couldn’t help the quiver in your voice.

“I’m sorry Y/N. It is my professional medical opinion that you start getting your affairs in order now, because I don’t see you living longer than 6 months with this disease. And even shorter if you refuse treatment.”

Sam just sat there in silence, waiting for some kind of gesture that you needed comfort. But none came. You just sat there in silence yourself, taking in the fact that you were going to die at any time. No tomorrow was guaranteed. Everything had a timer on it.

* * *

“What do you mean, ‘no’ Y/N?” Sam asked when the two of you got home, completely shocked.

“I mean just that Sam. I’m not going forward with a shit-ton of poisonous things that may or may not take the edge off something that’s killing me. There’s no cure and I’m going to die. But I’m not gonna wait around for it. I’ll handle it myself.” You said with such fierce emotion. You almost couldn’t believe your own words. 

“Are-are you saying…you're gonna kill yourself?” Sam barely managed to say in a even tone. Y/N was the only loved one he had left. He couldn’t lose her too. 

“Yeah,” you started as you walked passed him. “That’s exactly what I’m saying.”

Before Sam could do anything, you locked yourself in the room you shared with him. He banged on the door. But you didn’t budge. It wasn’t until he heard the sound of a gunshot that he kicked the door in, completely breaking it off its hinges.


	2. Part Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam had just heard his worst fear come true in that moment. You attempted to take your own life after learning you were gonna die of a terminal illness. Can he save you? Or should he let you go?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: suicide, angst, suffering, death and dying
> 
> A/N: for this story, Dean never made it out of Hell, therefore he's already dead.

Sam tried with all his might to kick in your door. They were reinforced with thick metal locks and you’d managed to lock them all, preventing anyone from getting in. When he did finally kick down the door, the scene in front of him was the last thing he’d expect. His heart stopped beating. Or so he thought.

You were standing in the middle of the room, gun in hand. Behind you, a huge gaping hole in the wall. You hadn’t in fact shot yourself, but took out your frustration on the bunker.

“What the hell, Y/N?!” Sam shouted as he came in the room. 

“I…” you began “I couldn’t do it.” you were starting to break down, tears streaming down your face. Sam came to your rescue and took you into his arms. He allowed you to grieve. 

Your body was wrecked with horrible painful sobs. It took a good 20 minutes before you calmed down. But Sam, being the gentle giant that he was, just let you feel out all your emotions, rubbing soft circles on your back, making sure your hair didn’t get in your face. 

“But…” you began after you’d calmed down, “I can’t keep doing this. I’m sorry Sam but I don’t want to live out the rest of my existence suffering from the side effects of drugs and treatments that we know won’t work. Please Sam. I’m begging you. I want to let go.”

Sam weighed your feelings and his own carefully in silence. On the one hand, it was your life, your decision, and if you wanted to die like you believed you should, who was he to stop you? On the other hand, he loved you with all his heart and soul and letting you go would be about as painful as losing Jessica again. He wanted to be selfish, put his foot down and say “No, you have to go through treatment, I can’t lose you!” but he knew deep down it wasn’t right. He always wanted you to be happy no matter what life threw at you. And if letting you go would make you happy, then he didn’t have a leg to stand on arguing against it.

“Sweetheart, you know I love you. And that I’d do anything for you. If I could take your pain away, take your place instead, I would in a heartbeat. But I can’t. And I also can’t be selfish about this.” He took a deep breath before continuing. No changing his mind later. “If this is what you want to do, then I’ll support you. Just know that there will be times where I won’t be able to bear it.”

You looked up at him with tears in your eyes, but a slight look of hope. You really didn’t think he’d be on your side. “You mean it?”

He took a finger and drew an X over the center of his chest. “Cross my heart.”

* * *

So you let the sickness take its course. You stopped returning your doctor’s phone calls urging you to seek treatment. Eventually you had Sam block his number, fed up with your doctor’s complete lack of support. You didn’t have the heart to do it yourself as up until this point he had been a good physician.

But he was right about one thing. Without treatment, that 6 month prognosis turned into 2 when you finally passed away in your sleep, suffocating on the fluid that had completely blocked off your airways. The hunter’s wake Sam had to prepare for you was what completely broke him. He stopped hunting, cut off all his cell phone connections and eventually stopped eating, letting his body lose so much weight it became unhealthy. And within 3 months of your death, Sam took the same gun you used to remodel the wall in your room and put a bullet in his brain. Finally unable to deal with the pain of trying to let you go. For you were his soulmate. He could never, ever let you go. Nobody would ever come to give him the hunter’s wake he so rightfully deserved.

Eventually the power in the bunker died out. It became cold and dark. Sam’s body would forever lay in his room in the dark.


End file.
